


Two broken hearts

by lilolilyrae



Series: Two Broken Hearts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Investigations, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilolilyrae/pseuds/lilolilyrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since John had abandoned him, Sherlock had more and more lost his will to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own them :(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock being sad - and Lestrade rather slow :/

They had a rather interesting case that day, and Greg Lestrade had thought that finding this would cheer Sherlock Holmes up a little, who seemed kind of grumpy that day.  
_More_ grumpy than usual.

But Sherlock didn't seem to care about the case, which really was something abnormal as it was about a double-murder, in different locations but at the same time and apparently killed by the same person.

None of this could make Sherlock to come up with his usual energy, he solved the case emotionlessly and not as fast as it was normal for him.

When he didn't even react to Anderson and Donovan gossiping about him, Lestrade began to seriously worry about him.

John Watson wasn't there today, so he couldn't ask him about what was wrong with Sherlock.  
But asking Sherlock Holmes himself about why he was grumpy? Probably not a good idea...

Now as he thought about it, it seemed strange that Watson hadn't shown up yet.  
The doctor of course wasn't with Sherlock all the time, but normally he would have at least stopped by for some minutes, or he would've called Sherlock.  
Maybe he was sick and the absence of his flatmate was the reason for Sherlock's bad mood?  
Well, if he wanted to find out, he would have to ask Sherlock.

“What's up, Holmes?” Lestrade asked, walking over to the consulting detective. “That kind of case still not interesting enough for you?”

Sherlock snorted and otherwise ignored Lestrade.

“Where's John, by the way? Haven't seen him all day.” Lestrade asked, “ Is he unwell?”

Sherlock crossed over his arms: “Well, he might have gone mentally ill, but apart from that he's in the best of health.”

Lestrade looked at him, puzzled, and Sherlock rolled his eyes in a manner that showed how he thought that the inspector was far too slow in figuring out what he meant.

“He abandoned me” Sherlock said with a whiny voice.”Is that so difficult to understand?”

“What do you mean, he abandoned you?” Lestrade was pretty sure that Sherlock was overreacting, he couldn't see a reason for John Watson to quit investigating cases with Sherlock Holmes forever. Well, now that he thought about it, he _did_ see some reasons, like, for example, that it was about _Sherlock Holme_ s and that Sherlock wasn't always an easy partner.

“He _left_ me, seriously WHAT IS SO DIFFICULT ABOUT IT?!”  
Sherlock shouted the last words, and before Lestrade could interrupt him again he explained:  
“He moved out of the flat, from one moment to the other he was gone, said it wasn't a good idea for him to be around me any longer. And no, he didn't get kidnapped or anything, he just LEFT and he isn't responding to my texts and I even CALLED him and he didn't answer and cases aren't fun to investigate without him!”

“Weeell” Lestrade was trying to keep cool  
“There has to be a reason for him to move out, I can't believe he did this without a reason. Didn't you come up with any ideas?”

But Sherlock didn't seemed like he'd be able to think properly right now.  
“I think- I mean all of you think I'm insane, I guess he just figured this out by himself, and now he _hates_ me or something!”

“I don't think so.” Lestrade tried to quiet Sherlock. “Maybe he has a girlfriend and she's jealous of him spending all his time with you and now he moved in with her?”

“No” Sherlock said.

“How can you be so sure about that?”

“He hasn't been on a date for _ages_ , Lestrade.”

“And you know this because- well, I guess you just know.”

Lestrade had given up on trying to figure out how Sherlock was analyzing all the people around him.  
“But you know, Sherlock: if he has a girlfriend and it's serious _that_ would be a reason for him not to have other dates.”

“NO. Because A) He isn't dating or seeing anyone, AS I TOLD YOU ALREADY and B) if that would be the reason he could've just told me!”

He had a whining tone of voice again, Lestrade wondered whether Sherlock would soon start to cry like a baby.

 

“Hey, Inspector Lestrade!” someone shouted from the crime scene. “You comin?”

“Yeah, just a second” he called back.

“Could you give me John's mobile phone number? Maybe if I called he'd answer and I can find out bout what's up.”

“He'd hate me for passing on his personal data” Sherlock grumbled. “ But on the other hand he _does_ already hate me, so I guess this won't make it worse.”

He wrote down John's number and handed it to Lestrade who said “I'm sure John doesn't hate you. Why whould he?”

But Sherlock only shook his head, not believing in Lestrade's words, and slowly walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like it, I'll write more :)


	2. Chapter 2

JOHN WATSON was in a hotel room.  
He felt lonely and sad, and he didn't know what to do.

He wrapped his arms around himself.  
He wanted to grab his phone and call Sherlock, or even better run all the way to Baker Street and- but that would only make it worse.

So he lay down on the uncomfortable hotel bed and tried to push his thoughts away from his old life.  
He _really_ needed to forget, and carry on.

 

SHERLOCK was sitting in his armchair in 221B Baker Street.

He was bored, which actually surprised him after a rather exciting case.  
But it wasn't the same without John...

 _Lonely_.  
That was the expression for how he felt, it was a new feeling to him and it wasn't good at all.

He would do some experiments to distract himself.  
And maybe, after finishing the experiments, Lestrade would call and tell him that it was all only a misunderstanding, that John didn't hate him, didn't leave him forever...

But no, John Watson was gone, and Sherlock Holmes didn't allow himself to hope.

 

LESTRADE was busy all day.

The crime had been solved with Sherlock's help, but the case wasn't over yet.  
There was paperwork to do, and many other things, too.

Because of all the work he had to do, he didn't get around to call John, nor Sherlock.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock was bored again soon.  
Lestrade hadn't called.  
And he had no new ideas for experiments with the dead body parts.  
He even asked Molly if she didn't know anything he could do with for example an eye, or some fingers...  
But she only looked at him as if he'd be _very_ revolting.

After some time, he did get some new ideas about what kind of experiments he could do.  
But these new experiments did not include _dead_ bodies...

 

John checked his phone.  
Sherlock didn't message him again.

Right after he had left, Sherlock had texted him every minute and later he had even called five times.

He couldn't quite decide whether he felt good or bad about Sherlock not calling.  
On the one hand, it meant that he might not have to change his phone number- but on the other hand, it showed how fast Sherlock had given up on him.

 

At first, Sherlock googled his symptoms.

'Depression' it said, and 'shock' and 'symptoms of a great loss', also 'heartbroken' and 'burnout' and 'autistic'.

On one website about depression and how to deal with them he found what he had been looking for: there were several people discussing the possibility of cutting yourself to let the physical pain cover the mental pain.  
The people on the internet seemed to look at it as a bad idea, said that one could eat hot things or play with several anti-stress games instead of destroying the own body.  
But Sherlock didn't care about those things.

Without John, his life wasn't interesting or exciting anymore.  
And like a case which wasn't interesting, such a life wasn't worth it.  
Which meant that he had nothing to lose.  
It sounded like a great experiment and if it would help him dealing with John's dissapearence, that would be even better.

 

Finally, all the work was done.  
Lestrade headed home, and he was nearly falling asleep in the cab when he remembered that he hadn't done _everything_ yet: he had to call John.  
So he did, hoping that John only refused to answer Sherlock's calls- and that he had still kept his old phone number after Sherlock bothering him.

“Hello, Dr. John Watson here, who am I talking to?”

“It's Lestrade” said Lestrade, hoping that John wouldn't hang up when he knew it was someone who had contact with Sherlock.  
There was a small pause.

“What's up?” John asked him.

“I was just wondering why you weren't here today, the case was really interesting!”  
Lestrade tried to explain without mentioning that he called because of Sherlock.

“Um, yeah.... I don't think I'll come to any more cases.”

“But why? Cause investigating cases with Sherlock Holmes is too dangerous a life? That didn't seem to bother you before.”

“I don't want to talk about it, but I have my reasons. Goodbye, Lestrade.”

“Wait, wait! At least tell me where I can find you? I mean, if something happens...”

John seemed to consider the pros and cons of the idea before he answered. “Cityhotel, room 21. But only come if it's something really important, not just one of your cases. Sherlock can deal with them on his own.”

“Okay, and thank you”

John hung up.

'So he's at a hotel. Means: no girlfriend. At least none with an own apartment or something. And Sherlock was probably right about knowing what was going on in Johns love-life- they've shared a flat, and it's _Sherlock_! But that still does not explain why John left...'  
Greg Lestrade went on thinking about the 'reasons for John Watson to leave his former life' for the entire evening.

 

Mrs. Hudson was sure that there was something going on.  
That something was, indeed, wrong here.

When John Watson had left the flat a few days ago, with a huge suitcase and with a backpack on his shoulders, she had been surprised that she hadn't been informed of his plans but she had wished him nice holiday anyway.  
But John had only smiled sadly and had said “Goodbye, Mrs. Hudson” in such a sad tone, it sounded like it would be goodbye forever.  
She had thought that maybe there was a bad incident in his family. When she had asked Sherlock about where John was going he hadn't even looked up from his phone.  
'Probably hasn't even realized that John is gone' she had thought.

But now, she was worried about Sherlock.  
He'd been acting strangely since John had left- even more so than usual.  
He didn't play the violin, nor did he get excited about any case he was investigating with inspector Lestrade.  
He seemed to be sad about something, but she couldn't be exactly sure, because he never showed much emotion.

 

Lestrade would've liked to call Sherlock in for a case to distract him a little, but there hadn't been any 'interesting' crimes in days and if he'd call him because of  _normal_ murder he might get even more angry and depressed...  
'I should probably inform his brother' Lestrade thought. 'Mycroft Holmes might not have information about John Watson, but it could be he knew something that would help Sherlock. It would be good to have our consulting detective back, field work is twice as boring without Sherlock's insanity...'

Lestrade went to Mr. Mycroft Holmes place of residence.  
Arriving there, he wasn't sure whether this was a good idea or not.  
He barely knew Sherlocks brother and he didn't knew how much Mycroft cared for his little brother. But now he was here, and he would at least try to find out something.

 

Sherlock always prepared everything for an experiment before he started, made sure that everything was ready.

The people he had read about on the internet mainly seemed to use razor blades to cut through their forearms.  
He would cut himself on his arms, too, but a Sherlock Holmes didn't need to use razor blades for an experiment.  
He had asked Molly to give him a new, clean scalpel for an experiment.  
She hadn't asked any further.

Everything was set up, he had covered the table so Mrs Hudson wouldn't be able to blame him for blood splotches everywhere.

He disinfected the blade, even though he didn't think of it as necessary, he didn't really care about what happened to his body anymore.

Sherlock Holmes didn't believe in any god, which meant that he also did not believe in any hell he could end up in.  
When he would die, his body, together with the cells his supernormal mind consisted of, would simply stop to function.  
Sherlock Holmes would not exist any longer, all the pain would be taken away from him.

He put the knife to his left forearm.


	4. Chapter 4

One cut and the blood was flowing. 

There was pain, yes, but what he normally considered to be something bad felt wonderful, he was able to focus his entire mind on the pain, the blood... 

Sherlock didn't notice Mrs Hudson in the doorway who had thrown her hands up in horror.

 

John Watson needed a flat. 

He knew that he couldn't live in a hotel room forever, but he also didn't have the heart to look for his own flat.  
It would make it impossible for him to return to his old life. Would make it decided, final.  
And while on the one hand, he knew that he would never return to 221B Baker Street, a part of him couldn't give up his old life yet.

So he only laid back onto the bed to delay the decision. 

 

Lestrade had introduced himself to Sherlocks brother, had explained why he had appeared.

It had surprised him how different Mycroft was compared to Sherlock, while still seeming intelligent in a similar way. 

Mycroft seemed overtaken by the news about his brother.  
“No, I truly don't have the foggiest idea about what could be his problem” he said, “I didn't even knew he had any, apart from his usual oddity.” 

“I think it's in conjunction with John Watson's move out of the flat” Lestrade explained. “Sherlock thinks that John hates him for some reason, but I don't think so. Well, I don't have any idea why John could've moved out.” 

“We should ask him, then” Mycroft stood up. “I'm worried about my brother, usually he isn't that emotional- whereby he isn't able to deal with any feelings. I don't want him to do something stupid. Do you know where we could look for Watson?” 

Before Lestrade could answer, Mrs. Hudson rushed into the room, pale and out of breath.  
One of Mycrofts security men behind her made excuses for why he had let her pass, Mycroft suggested him to leave.  
Mrs Hudson seemed totally exhausted, she stammered and couldn't say an entire sentence. 

After calming down a little, she addressed Mycroft:  
“Mr Holmes- your brother, Sherlock, he's- he is #cutting# himself, it looks #really# bad, I think he didn't even notice me, he #never# did experiments on his own body before, I don't know what to do-” 

“There we have something stupid” Mycroft sighed. “I'm gonna stop him. Lestrade-” 

“I could get John, I mean, he's a doctor... and Sherlock seems to need one” 

“Oh, I don't think a doctor will be necessary, Sherlock should have enough brain left not to hurt himself too bad, but try to bring John anyway.”  
Mycroft headed off and left Lestrade and Mrs Hudson alone. 

“Maybe I should look for John” Mrs Hudson said when Lestrade didn't seem to get ready to do something. 

“Yeah, good idea” murmured Lestrade relieved. “He's at the city hotel, room 21” 

After Mrs Hudson had left the room, Lestrade decided to go to 221B- he thought that Mycroft might need help with the other Holmes brother.

 

When Mrs Hudson entered the hotel room, John had fallen asleep on his bed. 

He looked so innocent, like a little boy in his peaceful sleep, that she didn't have the heart to wake him at first.  
But then she thought of Sherlock with his arms slashed open and decided that waking John would be the lesser evil. 

She knelt down and patted his shoulder. 

“John, wake up” 

While waking up, John's until then peaceful facial features became dark and sad.  
When he was fully awake and saw Mrs Hudson beside his bed, he got frightened.

“What happened? Why are you here?” he touched his head as if he had a headache. 

“Hello John” Mrs Hudson stood up.  
“it's because of Sherlock” she began, she wanted to explain it to John without freaking him out.  
“I think, well, maybe you should come back and-” 

“No!” John seemed immediately alerted.

“But why, dear? Why did you leave?” 

“I don't think this is any of your business.” 

“Oh, I do think so! You two are my friends- at least I thought so, before you left and barely said goodbye! I care about both of you, so couldn't you just, please, try to explain?” 

John seemed to become smaller with each of Mrs Hudson's shouted words. He knew that he had to tell her something, but the truth was so- embarrassing.  
The color of his face changed from red to pale back to red and he stammered “I am- I think I'm-” 

“You're what, John? Are you sick? Do you-”

“No, no! Im fine. Well, maybe I'm insane. But it's just that I'm- I'm in love with him.” 

The secret was out. 

“You love Sherlock.” Mrs Hudson stated. “So what?” 

“What, so what? I just told you that- that- ” 

“Yes, but what's the problem? I mean, I really don't want to know what you two are doing, but...” 

“We are NOT a couple!” 

“Did you notice that you're the only one who is thinking that way? Sherlock never answered back when I said something like that” 

“Mrs Hudson, really, I know you'd like me and Sherlock to be together, but I don't think he'd even be okay with having me in his flat when he knew how I think about him.” 

“Oh, John” Mrs Hudson sighed. “You really don't understand anything, right? He's heartbroken, John! He's heartbroken because you left, he's so heartbroken he's even cutting himself, if that isn't a-”  
“He's doing WHAT?!”  
John jumped and looked at Mrs Hudson in shock. 

“Well, that's actually the reason why I came here- ”  
but John had already grabbed his first aid equipment and left the room. 

Mrs Hudson needed to hurry to at least get into the next cab after John.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't supposed to romanticise self-harm, but to show how it will become better again.

When John arrived at 221B Baker Street, inspector Lestrade was standing in the hallway, clearly not knowing what to do. Mycroft Holmes stood in the middle of the room and Sherlock, Sherlock was standing on top of the sofa, blood dropping from his left arm. 

The red liquid was everywhere, John could figure out the exact way Mycroft had raced Sherlock through the room because of the bloodstains.  
“Would you, //please// leave me alone now, brother?”  


Sherlock didn't care about his arm. In fact, he barely seemed to notice it.  


John wanted to throw up, get unconscious, do anything to escape this scene, or better help Sherlock, //stop the blood from flowing// but all he could do was standing there and clinging to the door.  


“Sherlock, LISTEN TO ME!”  
Mycroft slowly walked over to the sofa Sherlock was standing on.  
“You've always been insane, but this is //really// too much. Are you aware of the fact that you are killing yourself?”

“Well, I'm aware of the fact that //this// will kill me!”  
Suddenly, Sherlock took a knife, no, a scalpel to his throat. John hold his breath.  
“Sherlock, WHAT are you doing?!”  
Mycroft really sounded despaired, and shocked...  
“I thought this was another experiment, you don't //really// intend to //kill// yourself, do you?!”

In that moment, Mrs. Hudson entered the room.  
“//what// is going on here? Sherlock? What are you doing?”  
She rushed into the room, dragging John behind her.  
“Have you even noticed who's there, Sherlock?”  


When Sherlocks eyes met John's, the knife fell out of his hand. It hit his foot. He cried out and John jumped forward, the first aid bag in his hand. First, he put a bandage around Sherlock's forearm, then he carefully put off his sock and took care of the cut in Sherlock's foot.

While John was taking care of Sherlock's injuries, Mycroft was grumbling about his brother, asking him wether he had become insane. Mrs. Hudson tried to calm them down but it only lead to Lestrade breaking into tears. 

When Mycroft got so aggressive that he nearly slapped Sherlock, who didn't even tried to protect himself, Lestrade forced Mycroft outside and Mrs. Hudson followed them, hastily closing the door behind her- not without a wink to John.

Then, Sherlock and John were alone. John was ready with taking care of Sherlocks injuries and uneasy stood up, making a step away from Sherlock.

“Well, I guess, you'll leave now, again, as I'm not in life danger anymore?”

“Sherlock...”  


“No, let me speak! You left, without an explanation! If you're in a relationship and wanted to prevent me from being hurt, then let me say that it didn't work out! Because I AM hurt, #you leaving me# hurts, I simply want to understand, do you see, John?”  


“Prevent YOU from getting hurt?! Relationship? What do you mean?!?! No, no, Sherlock, I wanted to prevent ME from getting hurt! I know it is not your intention, you aren't very *emotional* and anyway I would never try to force someone to feel...- and I don't know whether or not you're even *able* to love, but-”  


“to **love**?!”  


John was struggling.

“I'm in love with you, Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“Sorry?”  
Sherlock looked at John, puzzled. His facial expression was a mixture between confused, shocked and 'I Think I'm insane'.  


The sight of this face was so hilarious, John couldn't control himself but laugh.  


“Sorry?!”  
Sherlock repeated, angry now, and John tried not to laugh harder. Sherlock freaked.  


“Did you leave me here, alone, and now came back only to make fun of me?!”  


Sherlock stood up, and was going to walk away, but John grabbed his arm, immediately serious again.

 

“No, Sherlock, I'm not making fun of you, I swear! I-”  


“Then this was a misunderstanding, I trust? You weren't just laughing at me a second ago?" 

Sherlock was shaking... and – John looked closer – yes, his eyes were glowing with tears. “Are you crying, Sherlock?!”  


“What do *you* care? How could I be so dumb? You told me you loved me, but oh! Of course it was only a prank! I always knew that I am not the person to fall in love with, but I can love and IdoloveyouJohnWatson!”  


he got louder and louder and he ended up shouting the last words.  


John had tried to interrupt him several times, but now, after Sherlocks words, he couldn't think of anything good to say and simply pressed his lips to Sherlocks.


	6. -NOT A CHAPTER-

to everyone who bookmarked this: it seemed like a good, fluffy ending for this story, but if you want more angst and johnlock: I'm continuing this as a series ;)


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